The Room
by McGeekle
Summary: Tony runs across Ziva in Georgetown about a year after she left for Israel. He discovers that she's been home in DC for six months, but that secret pales in comparison to the reason she's been hiding herself away.


Tony stepped out of the charger on a warm night in July, Bishop not too far behind him.

"With all the crap I see you eating at your desk, it's about time we take you out for a real meal." He joked as he made his way onto the sidewalk towards the restaurant.

"Well, I appreciate that," she smiled. "Though that crap you keep telling me I'm eating is delicious. And part of my process."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. Food association. I still don't believe that's a real thing." Tony teased.

"I swear, it is," Bishop said with a laugh.

"You want to get a table, or wait for the rest of the team?"

"We can wait out here," she chirped, "it's a nice night."

"That it is." he said, trailing off. He felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck, like someone was watching them. He turned quickly only to see someone turn and dart away. For a moment he could swear…his heart seized. It couldn't be her. He hadn't heard from her in months, and there was no reason for her to be in DC, but he knew it was her. He took off after her, leaving Bishop in the dust.

"Tell the team I'll make it up to them," he called over his shoulder. "ZIVA." he yelled

The body didn't stop. He could tell she was trying to look inconspicuous, that she wanted to get lost in the crowd, but he knew her far too well for that. His heart was beating out of his chest. He was breathing a little too hard and sweating just a little too much. He walked faster, weaving between people, just trying to catch up with her instead of pulling out his badge and telling everyone to make a hole. She got caught up behind a very slow walking couple, and he grabbed her, praying to god that he wasn't mistaken and grabbing some stranger on the sidewalk.

She turned quickly, letting out a gasp at being caught. Her hair was shorter, her skin more tanned, but it was her, in the flesh standing in front of him in the middle of Georgetown.

"Ziva." he gasped in disbelief. It was really her. It wasn't some illusion or a dream. It was her.

"Tony," she said, her smile not quite reaching her eyes.

"You're in Georgetown," he said, confusion setting in.

He took in her appearance, a long sundress and sandals, and his eyes narrowed. She looked settled. More than one would expect if she'd just flown into town.

"Yes, I am."

"How long have you been in town?" he asked suspiciously.

She didn't answer him right away, the way she did when she didn't want to tell him the truth.

"Ziva," he lowered his voice.

"Six months."

"You've been here for six months?! And you didn't think to tell me?" He growled

"I had very good reasons for not telling you that I was here."

"I'm sure there is." he spat.

Her frustration rose at his immediate defensiveness, and she snapped back.

"Why do you always assume the worst of me? Can you not believe that I have a good reason for not telling you I was here?"

"No. I can't think of a reason good enough for you to shut me out. It's been a year, Ziva. And I haven't heard a damn thing from you."

She looked around where the street had fallen quiet, the once bustling street watching their scuffle. She glared at them, prompting them to start moving once again.

"We are attracting attention. We need to do this somewhere private."

He glared at her, clearly reluctant to comply.

"Tony please, give me a chance to explain," she implored him.

"Fine," he bit out. "My car is around the corner. We can go to my place."

"I would rather we go to mine, if you do not mind."

"Whatever you want." he conceded tightly.

She game him an address in Alexandria. To say he was shocked when he pulled up to the little brick house in the suburbs would be an understatement. The grey brick home was as elegant and dignified as he'd imagined her home would one day be. The two story house had a large front porch and attached garage. She'd even planted some flowering bushes in the front yard.

"Wow, Ziva. This is your house?" he asked as he stepped out of the car, mouth agape.

"Yes. I bought it six months ago."

"It's beautiful."

"Thank you," she smiled. "I do take some pride in it."

As she opened the front door, his jaw dropped again. The foyer opened into the open layout of the home. Just from the front door he could see up the stairs to the next level, into the kitchen, the living area, and what he thought was a breakfast nook. The floors were hardwood, the countertops granite. He wasn't sure what he was expecting when he stepped into this house, but he was impressed.

"This place is amazing," he said in awe.

"Thank you," she said quietly, a hint of sadness in her tone. "Would you like something to drink?"

"Uhm…sure."

"I do not have any alcohol in the house, will water do?"

"Yeah, whatever you have is fine," he said, distracted. He was far too busy looking around the house to truly pay attention to what she was saying. "Hey…can I use your bathroom?"

"Of course. Up the stairs, first door on your left." She smirked as he trudged up the stairs. There was a bathroom downstairs as well, but she could not deny him the opportunity to snoop.

As Tony made his way to the top of the stairs, he peered around the hallway, snooping just as she suspected he would. He poked his head into Ziva's room, smiling when it looked exactly how he'd imagined it would, all neat lines and earth tones. Most of the doors on the floor were open, save for one. The one right next to Ziva's room.

Curiosity got the better of him, and he pushed the door open carefully, trying to reduce the squeak of the hinges. He peered inside, and his jaw dropped. It was a nursery. The room was painted a light mint green with white trim and large decals of baby zoo animals stuck to the walls. There was a white rocking chair in the corner that matched the crib and changing table. He stood stock still, wide eyed as he took in the baby blankets and tiny booties, the stuffed animals and the mobile. Shocked and confused, he turned away, shutting the door quietly behind him. He walked back down the stairs in a daze, dumbly scanning the room before spotting Ziva walking in from the kitchen. She took a deep breath and sighed sadly.

"Judging by that look on your face, I would say you saw the room"

"Ziva…" he trailed off in stunned silence.

She remained silent, allowing him to gather whatever thought he was struggling with.

"Are you…?"

"No." she whispered.

"Then where's the baby?"

"There is no baby." She said calmly.

He shook his head slightly, still confused.

"There was…but now there is not. I…" tears welled in her eyes, threatening to spill over at any moment "I miscarried soon after I found out I was pregnant." She blinked, the tears running down her cheeks. She didn't bother to wipe them away, her grief still fresh.

"Oh Ziva," he sighed, pulling her to him, their first intimate contact since he discovered her.

"That is what we needed to talk about," she croaked, voice thick with tears.

"It's okay. Let's just sit down, we'll talk about it," he said gently.

He led her to the couch, holding her hands as she sat down carefully, drawing her legs up beside her, tucking into herself. He sat in the opposite corner of the couch, sensing that she needed some space to get it all out. The pose was similar, and briefly he was brought back to her hot, sandy home in Israel, the last time they poured their hearts out to one another. He hoped that somehow this talk would be less painful than the previous, but he knew in the back of his mind that hope would be in vain. She wiped her tears away quickly, breathing heavily and gathering her thoughts. This is not how this conversation was supposed to happen. And yet she mentally scolded herself for thinking that it could be any other way.

"Let's start at the beginning," Tony said gently. "When did you realize you were pregnant?"

"It was in early January, three months after you left. I have never been regular, not since…not since Africa, and I thought nothing of it. But then…I do not know. I was exceptionally tired, I had gained a bit of weight, and I thought perhaps it was because I was not sticking to my exercise routine as I once did, so I just ignored it, and I started running again. It wasn't until I stepped in a hole in the grove and twisted my ankle that I even thought about it. Shmiel encouraged me to get an x ray, you would have too, I am sure. It was purple, swollen, he was convinced it was broken. When I went in they had to do a blood test before the x-ray, and that's when they told me. I hadn't even considered it."

"So the baby was…"

"Yours," she said quickly, "yes."

Her quick reply was a punch to the gut, and he was forced to take a steadying breath. The baby was his. They could have had a kid.

"Then what happened?" he asked, voice strangled.

"I decided that I would have to go back to DC, to tell you. I knew that I could not keep her from you even if I wanted to. I would never want a child of mine to wonder about her father, not after all I have been through," she paused, looking directly into his eyes "Not knowing the kind of father you would have been."

She broke from his gaze, looking around the room, trying to keep herself on track. "So I decided to move back here. Quickly, I might add. I had, and still have, a substantial amount of money from my father's estate. So I bought this house. I arranged for the nursery to be painted before I moved in, and all my things shipped from Be'er Sheva. The room was," she swallowed, emotions creeping up on her once again. "That is how I was going to tell you. This house was…" she sniffled, "uh, my way of telling you that I wanted us to be a family." She smiled softly, briefly, through her tears.

He took her hands in his, rubbing the backs of her hands gently with his thumbs. He knew the hard part was coming. Her tears were flowing freely, and he wasn't quite sure that she would even make it through the rest of her retelling.

"I was almost ready to tell you, it was the middle of February, and I was four and a half months along. I woke up, and it was like I was being stabbed with dozens of knives, and there was a pool of blood…I had never been in so much pain. I called the ambulance…but by the time I got to the hospital…they said there was nothing they could do. I had to deliver the baby, they induced labor. It was…the worst pain I have ever experienced."

She bowed her head, her body shaking with sobs. She released him, holding her head in her hands as she cried. Tony wiped his own cheeks as best he could, tears now rolling freely down his face as well. He cried for the pain Ziva had gone through, for the emotional scars he knew would never heal, and the unborn, unknown child they'd lost.

"They told me," she started, speaking through the tears, "that there was a problem with my uterus. That the baby had attached in a less than ideal location, where I have scar tissue. That it was a miracle the baby had made it as long as she did."

"She?"

"Yes. It was a girl."

"Did you name her?"

"No. I could not. I wanted us to name her together."

"But what did you call her?"

"Peanut."

He cocked his head to the side slightly in confusion.

"I thought that is what you might have called her. That is what she looked like on the first ultrasound."

He shook his head, bowing it in grief.

"I am sorry, Tony. So sorry." She dropped her chin to her chest, not wanting to chance meeting his eyes. She had caused him so much pain, so much anguish.

His head popped up seconds later, and he reached across the couch, taking her face in his hands, prompting her gently to look up at him.

"You don't have anything to be sorry for, okay? This was not your fault."

"I could not carry our child to term, Tony. How is that not my fault?" She asked, eyes wide and wild.

"It's not. I know it's not. Sometimes…these things happen"

"That is what I have tried to tell myself. But it feels like all my hope has been taken away. I have lost my hope, and I am afraid I will never get it back. I wanted her so much, Tony."

"I know you did."

He dropped his hands to her shoulders and pulled her into his arms. He settled her against him, head pillowed on his chest.

"I'm sorry you had to go through this alone. I wish I could have been there to help you."

"I don't. I would not wish this pain on anyone."

"But we could have faced it together. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I could not. For a month afterward I did nothing but stay in this house. I contemplated what to say to you over and over, but what was I going to say? Tony, I came home because I was pregnant with your child, and I wanted us to be a family, but there is no baby, come home with me anyway?"

"I would have said yes."

"I know you would have. But I did not want you to have to deal with all of this. With the grief and sadness that I have brought into your life. That I always bring into your life."

"This is sad, yes. This is some of the worst news I've ever gotten. But you don't bring sadness to my life, Ziva. I need you to remember that." He felt her nod against his chest, her face somehow burying itself deeper into him.

"I almost left, you know," she said, her voice muffled by his shirt.

"When?"

"Two months ago. I wanted to leave, I really did. But I could not leave the home I bought for us, and I could not leave without telling you. So I stayed. No matter how much I wanted to go, I knew I could not leave this place. Leave the room I made for her."

"I'm glad you stayed." he whispered.

"Me too. I did not realize just how much I missed you until I saw you today."

"I missed you too. So much."

"I am sorry I took so long to tell you."

"It's okay. I understand. I wish I could have been there for you, but I get why you wouldn't want me to."

They lay on the couch for quite some time, her head laying on his chest, enveloped in his arms. His hands gently stroked her back, soothing and comforting her in a way she'd nearly forgotten completely. Her skin erupted in goosebumps, a shiver running up her spine at just how safe she felt with him. She could tell though, there was something on his mind. Something he didn't want to vocalize. She turned her head to look up at him, resting her chin on his chest.

"What is it?" she asked softly.

"Did you mean what you said, about wanting this to be our house?"

She nodded as well as she could under the circumstances. "I did. I still do."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that."

Again she replied with a sharp nod., disappointment flooding through her.

"It's not that I don't want to be…it's just that we've been apart for a year now, Ziva. And you've been through something," he explained, "And I don't want us to rush into something just because you're here."

"What are you saying?" She asked, a tremble of nervousness in her tone.

"I think we should date."

"Date?" she asked as though she'd never heard the word before.

"Yeah, I mean, we kind of skipped that part, maybe we should go back to it, at least for a little while," he offered.

She smirked. "I would like that."

"Alright then. A date it is." He leaned down as much as he could, and kissed her on the forehead. She smiled.

"Does that mean you have to leave, or can we stay like this for a while longer?"

He smiled, squeezing her firmly, "We can stay here as long as you want."


End file.
